The Collected Works of William Morris :: :: University of Virginia Library

So long they sat, until at last the sun
Sank in the sea, and noisy day was done.
Then bade Æetes light the place, that men
From out the dark might bring the day again;
Whereon, the scented torches being brought,
As men with shaded eyes the shadows sought,
Turning to Jason, spake the king these words:

“Dost thou now wonder, guest, that with sharp swords
And mailèd breasts of men I fence myself,
Not as a pedlar guarding his poor pelf,
But as a God shutting the door of heaven?
Behold! O prince, for threescore years and seven
Have I dwelt here in bliss, nor dare I give
The Fleece to thee, lest I should cease to live;
Nor dare I quite this treasure to withhold,
Lest to the Gods I seem grown over-bold;
For many a cunning man I have, to tell
Divine foreshowings of the oracle,
And thus they warn me. Therefore shalt thou hear
What well may fill a hero's heart with fear;
But not from my old lips; that thou mayst have,
Whether thy life thou here wilt spill or save,
At least one joy before thou comest to die:—
Ho ye, bid in my lady presently!”

But Jason, wondering what should come of this,
With heart well steeled to suffer woe or bliss,

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Sat waiting, while within the music ceased,
But from without a strain rose and increased,
Till shrill and clear it drew anigh the hall,
But silent at the entry did it fall;
And through the place there was no other sound
But falling of light footsteps on the ground,
For at the door a band of maids was seen,
Who went up towards the dais, a lovely queen
Being in their midst, who, coming nigh the place
Where the king sat, passed at a gentle pace
Alone before the others to the board,
And said: “Æetes, father, and good lord,
What is it thou wouldst have of me to-night?”

“O daughter,” said Æetes, “tell aright
Unto this king's son here, who is my guest,
What things he must accomplish, ere his quest
Is finished, who has come this day to seek
The golden fell brought hither by the Greek,
The son of Athamas, the hapless king,
That he may know at last for what a thing
He left the meadowy land and peaceful stead.”

Then she to Jason turned her golden head,
And reaching out her arm, stooped and took up
From off the board a rich fair-jewelled cup,
And said: “O prince, these hard things must ye do:
First, going to their stall, bring out the two
Great brazen bulls, that king Æetes feeds
On grass of Pontus and strange-nurtured seeds;
Nor heed what they may do, but take the plough
That in their stall stands ever bright enow,
And on their gleaming necks cast thou the yoke,
And drive them as thou mayst, with cry and stroke,
Through the grey acre of the God of War.

“Then, when turned up the long straight furrows are,
Take thou the sack that holds the serpent's teeth
Slain by our fathers on the sunless heath;
There sow those evil seeds, and bide thou there

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Till they send forth a strange crop nothing fair,
Which garner thou, if thou canst master Death.

“But if thereafter still thou drawest breath,
Then shalt thou have the seven keys of the shrine
Wherein the beast's fair golden locks yet shine;
Yet sing thou not the song of triumph then,
Nor deem thyself the luckiest of men;
For just within the brazen temple-gates
The guardian of the Fleece for ever waits,—
A fork-tongued dragon, charmed for evermore
To writhe and wallow on the precious floor,
Sleepless, upon whose skin no steel will bite.

“If then with such an one thou needs must fight,
Or knowest arts to tame him, do thy worst,
Nor, carrying off the prize, shalt thou be curst
By us or any God. But yet, think well
If these three things be not impossible
To any man; and make a bloodless end
Of this thy quest, and as my father's friend
Well gifted, in few days return in peace,
Lacking for nought, forgetful of the Fleece.”